


It’s not Love, actually?

by Cassiebobassie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Closeted Dean, Coming Out, Homophobia, Jock Dean Winchester, M/M, Mistletoe, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Russian Castiel, SPN Holiday Mixtape, christmas confessions, until he finds actual love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-12 14:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12961779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiebobassie/pseuds/Cassiebobassie
Summary: Castiel misunderstands an invite to Dean’s familiy christmas as a romantic overture. When he tries to up the ante by arranging a mistletoe kiss at the party, Dean rejects him out of hand and out of embarrassment. Feeling sad about how he mistreated Cas, Dean researches (with Sammy) and finds out about Russian holiday Christmas traditions and designs a great big sorry for Cas—complete with Russian delicacies and a mixed tape. Will his apology convince Cas that what they share is love actually?





	1. Chapter 1

 

Castiel Krushnic loved America, and what he loved best were American movies, American music, and one particular American boy.

Castiel had been in America for 1 year 4 months and 18 days. And he’d been in love with Dean Winchester almost the entire time. If you asked Castiel—and very few people would, this being a small town, where people tended to ignore the strange, the unfamiliar, and the foreign, and Castiel Krushnic was all things things—Dean Winchester was as American as apple pie.

Every day at lunch, Castiel pretended to stare at trees and bushes and bees or whatever was outside the main lunch room window so that he could stare longingly at Dean, who always sat at the table right in front of that window, surrounded by his expansive group of friends. These friends Castiel paid no mind to. He only had eyes for Dean. His golden hair and freckled skin, his smile, his strong shoulders and lean hips, his bowed legs. Everything about him was beautiful and male and American.

Despite his earnest affection, Castiel had worked very hard to hide his feelings from Dean.  He needed to be sure his feelings were returned. While homosexuality was more welcomed here than in his old home, Castiel feared the abuse he might suffer from his classmates. Before he had arrived in the country, American TV shows had taught him how unkind American high school students could be to those they saw as different. Hundreds of TV hours were devoted to detailing the bane of teen bullying. Maybe hundreds of thousands of hours. And one of his favorites—one that had taught him English and to love American music--had also taught him the added dangers of being gay. Glee had taught him how—even if his feelings were returned—a popular athlete like Dean would lash out violently at others or even himself if he was not comfortable with homosexuality. And Castiel had no desire to be Kurt Hummel-ed. His arrival at Lawrence high had shown him that being Russian was different enough to earn him the occasional shove and frequent teasing. So he’d grown cautious.

That's why, one week ago, during lunch, his stomach and chest tightened with a mix of fear and hope. Dean Winchester was walking towards him, eyes locked onto his face.

After more than a year of feeling invisible to Dean, watching him stride confidently across the lunch room with a wide grin on his face made Castiel worried that he was hallucinating. But the exited murmurs in the cafeteria were growing around him, and other students were turning to watch Dean walk over. This convinced Castiel that it had to be real. No fantasy he'd ever cooked up felt like this.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean said when he finally reached the empty table where he sat.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel replied with a nod, his mind whirring over Dean's words. _Cas? Dean Winchester knew his name? More than that, Dean had given him a nickname? Did this mean he wanted them to be friends?_

“I was wondering if you had any Christmas plans.”

“Plans?” Castiel had asked, confused and embarrassed to be stumbling through his first conversation with Dean.

“Yeah, my mom goes whole-hog over Christmas dinner. There's food for an entire village, man. So, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my house on Christmas Eve. You interested?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel whispered, too shocked to say more.

Dean had nodded his head, grabbed Castiel’s notebook and scribbled down his address. As he turned his back and returned to the table and his circle of friends, a wide smile stretched over Castiel’s face. He was sure this was to be the best Christmas ever. The next day he'd gone back to school eager for their first period, the only class he shared with Dean. But Dean had said nothing to him.

In fact, the past week had been a little confusing. Dean had not sat down to lunch with him the two remaining days of classes, and they had not spoken in the hall or in their math course.

But Castiel was not worried. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. He would see Dean again. And he had a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

 Christmas in America was very different from what Castiel was used to, but luckily his cinematic education had taught him all he needed to know. In America, Christmas was romantic. It was a time you invited your lover to your family home.

The day made your heart grow big when it was three sizes too small. The love of another on Christmas is what made you say, “It’s a wonderful Life!” Even in desperate situations, as in _Die Hard_ , it was a magical time to reunite you with your lost love, (save her life and those of her coworkers), and rebuild your relationship, yippie ki yay! Castiel’s favorite was the film _Love Actually_ , which had taught him all the ways that love and Christmas went hand in hand. There was gift-giving and, of course, the most romantic part of Christmas. The mistletoe.

Castiel had waited and waited for Dean to be brave enough to admit his feelings, and Dean had finally admitted to loving Castiel. He had invited him over to the family dinner and their feelings would be official. But... he had not kissed Castiel although declarations were normally an appropriate time for first kisses. He also hadn't seemed comfortable with their relationship the last days of school. No matter, as Castiel raised his hand to knock on the Winchester's door, he smiled. It was time for his plan.

“Hey, Cas. Come on in.”

“I am sorry to be late, Dean. Our car had lost air in the tire, and my foster mother had trouble repairing the problem.”

“It’s fine, Cas. No big deal. My mom’s finishing the cooking right now. We’re all just hanging out in the living room playing video games.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas,” Dean replied seriously, before breaking out into laughter. “Cas, you're hilarious man! No need to be so serious. Relax, we're gonna have a great time. And stuff our faces.”

Castiel followed Dean into his home and saw that it was full of people. Many of Dean’s school friends were here, too, making quite a bit of noise and playing a game where, apparently, the goal was to run over pedestrians while avoiding the police.

“Cas, this is my brother.”

“Good morning, Sam, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Castiel.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah, Dean. We're in Model UN together. Been solving global problems for nearly two years,” Sam finished with a wink toward Cas, which made Dean frown.

“ANYway, let's head this way, Cas. Time for you to meet the most amazing cook ever. My mom.”

Castiel wanted to take Dean's hand. He was nervous about meeting Dean's mother, but Dean was a foot ahead of him and whistling his way into the kitchen so he tried to do as Dean suggested and relax.

“Mom, Cas is here.”

“Hi, Castiel,” Mary said with a smile, her hands and forearms covered in dough. “Sorry about the mess, making a bird, a ham, 12 sides, and 3 pies will do this to a kitchen.”

“It smells wonderful and looks very much like home, Mrs. Winchester,” Castiel answered. “Merry Christmas. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Merry Christmas to you too honey. Food’ll be up in about an hour. Until then, enjoy yourself,” she said with a glowing smile. Turning her attention to Dean, she added, “This one’s a keeper, Dean. Not like those other heathens in the living room.” With a laugh, she ushered them out of the kitchen and back into the room where Dean's teammates surrounded a massive TV.

There were a number of classmates in letterman’s jackets, the high school athletes that Dean called friends. Dean, Castiel knew from watching every game, was the star of the baseball and football teams and it made sense that they would have these friends at their first party together. If Castiel was going to date Dean, he was going to have to learn to like some of these young people.

An hour later brought him no closer to calling one of Dean's teammates friends. They either ignored him or teased him. At one point, Gordon pushed him off the edge of the couch. Castiel was at a loss for what to do until Mary opened the dining room doors and invited them all make a plate.

There, in the awning of the doorway was a spring of mistletoe. Castiel smiled, sure of his next move. He waited as Dean let all of his teammates get food and return to places in the living room. His palms were sweaty. This would be his first kiss. And this was Dean Winchester. He desperately wanted to get this right.

“Cas, you ready to eat buddy?”

Cas nodded and walked behind Dean toward the buffet. They were the last to head in. Everyone would see. Only Mary was missing, having moved back into the kitchen to finish the pies as everyone ate her food. Dean was a mere foot away, he was picking up silverware and a plate, but Castiel knew how to say _Merry Christmas, Dean_ and _I love you, Dean_ in a way that everyone would understand.

Pulling Dean toward him, placing them both under the mistletoe, Castiel took a few steadying breaths.

“Cas, buddy, you all—”

Castiel's lips landed on Dean's. The kiss was warm and wet and, for one moment, perfect.

Dean squeezed his hip with a free hand and leaned toward him and moved his tongue across Castiel's lips and then against the roof of his mouth and…

And then Dean pushed him away.

Castiel landed on his back in the living room, surrounded by the excited laughter of Dean’s friends.

“Dean!” He heard Sam yell. Whatever Dean replied he couldn't hear or see, his eyes spinning to the laughing faces around him. He scrambled up, getting off the ground, and trying to breathe calmly. He'd misunderstood something somewhere, but tears wouldn't help, and anger would be a dead end. He looked at Dean and asked, “Dean, why did you push me?”

“Dude, you kissed me.”

“There was mistletoe, Dean, is that not appropriate?”

“It's just decoration, man. Besides, dudes don't just kiss other dudes. It's for couples and stuff, Cas.”

“I see. You did not want others to know.”

“Know what?”

Cas cast a meaningful glance at the whole of the football team, but Dean didn't seem to get the message.

“What, Cas? Spit it out!”

“That we are dating,” he tried to whisper.

“Dating! Holy shit Winchester!” One of the teammates yelled.

“Cas, we are not dating.”

“You invited me to your family home for the holiday, Dean. I though that—”

“Fuck, Winchester. This little Ruskie thought you were bringing him home to meet the parents. That shit’s priceless!”

“Cas,” Dean said with a frown, “It's not like that. I just wanted you to come hang out. You know, as friend.”

“I see,” Castiel muttered, trying to breathe past the lump of disappointment in his throat. “It's not love, actually.”

“Don't give up, yet, Ruskie. He gave you a nickname. Invited you to meet Mom. Maybe he does have a thing for weird little dudes like you.”

“Shut the fuck up Gordon.”

“I'm teasing, man. But if it gets a rise out of you, maybe I'm hitting near the truth. Does it hit you right near your little gay man balls to hear jokes about you and Castiel?”

“Seriously, shut the hell up.”

Gordon laughed and Dean grew angrier, his face turning a mottled red.

“Sensitive much? If it's a joke you're getting s little too hot about it. But then again fags do get pretty emotional.”

“Don't call me a fag, asshole. I wouldn't date this freak if he were last human alive. I was taking pity on the guy. Not my fault he's got a crush on me. Shit. Maybe all Russians are lunatics.”

At each word, Castiel shuddered. Each sentence was worse than a wake-up call. It was a wake-up punch. Designed to hit him where he hurt. He'd been right about Dean Winchester. He was beautiful and strong and male and all-American. Castiel had simply not understood the cruel streak that ran through an American heart, and now he did.

He walked quickly to the door, knocking his way past several football players who were still busy laughing.

“Cas, wait. Look, it's cool. Just don't—”

He shook off Dean’s hand. “Dean Winchester, you are an assbutt.”

He slammed the door behind him and headed home. It would be s long, cold walk. But he couldn't walk back into Dean’s home. And he couldn't explain his tears to his foster mother. The walk would have to dry his eyes and hardened his heart and prepare him for returning to school in a week's time, where he would be Castiel Krushnic, the strange Russian student with no family and no friends, who everyone would know was gay and in a one-way love with the school idol. In other words, Castiel, the freak in a trenchcoat.

What a new year this was going to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean Winchester was straight, straight as an arrow if you asked anybody—and people often did ask about Dean. He was by far the most popular boy at Lawrence high. He drove a big muscle car, excelled in sports, and was the campus ladies man. In fact, Dean only talked about, kissed, or dated girls, and he had dated a ton of girls.

It didn't matter that he wouldn't exactly mind dating a few guys or that he’d been crushing on one particular guy for over a year. What mattered was that he needed to wait for college and to wait until he could get out of Lawrence and put this small town behind him before he came out.

He shook his head and tried to focus on getting ready for practice. Baseball season started early with strength training, and normally Dean loved it. But now?

School had been back in session for almost two weeks, and he'd been avoiding Castiel as much as he could. And Cas made it easy. He'd all but disappeared. Dean never saw him in the lunch room. And even though he had spent the fall semester smiling at the new kid who knew more math than their teacher and kept putting that fool Zachariah on his toes, the spring term had a Cas that didn't make a noise in class. Cas tried to disappear after the party, and it worked. Mostly. Except for the fact that Dean had nightmares.

Ever since the party, slept at most three hours a night. Most nights Cas called him cruel and threw his words back at him: “You’re a lunatic, Dean. You’re a freak. A man who hides who he is! It’s you who deserves pity.” Other nights, Cas slammed him into the cement stand near the football field. The same place he stood every Friday night he came to watch Dean play. He yelled and demanded Dean tell the truth. Sometimes, in other dreams, Cas cried in Dean’s arms, sad that they had to hide from everyone. The worst were the dreams where Cas was soft against him, kissing, touching, and he woke up hard and desperate and alone. Dean wasn’t sure how much more he could take. And every practice he was sure to hear his teammates jokes.

“You should have heard the weirdo!,” Gordon said, retelling he story for the hundredth time.

It seemed the story followed Dean around, and every day in the locker room it seemed to get brought back up. He just tried to tune it out. But it was getting harder. Cas was nice. And their kiss was nice. More than nice. And Dean had done everything wrong. Was dream Cas, right? Did he owe himself and Cas better?

Dean didn't want to come out as Bi to the losers as Lawrence high, but he had started to wonder before Christmas if Cas the exception to his no-homo rule at Lawrence. He seemed worth a whole lot of trouble. He seemed worth every joke and every bit of bullying that was bound to follow them. Especially now that he was hurting. Dean had fantasies every night he woke up from a nightmare... of being the hero in Cas’s plans, of acting the way he should have on Christmas Eve.

“I know, dude!” Colin laughed. “When he tried to ask Dean if they were, like, in love or some shit, he was all It’s not love, Awk-chu-allee? He sounded like freaking Dracula, man.”

“You are an ah-ss-butt,” Gordon added.

“Cas doesn’t sound like that. He sounds Russian. You sound like an assbutt,” Dean said.

“Oooooh, Caaasss. Nice nickname, Winchester. Something you wanted to tell us?”

“Yeah, didn’t know you were going gay for Caaaassss.”

“I’m not going gay for anybody.” Dean said angrily, his jaw clinching and his hands fisted. He took a deep breath, and said, “I’m bisexual. I’ve been bi or gay or whatever you want to call it since I realized what my dick was for, you assbutt, and definitely before Castiel ever stepped inside the school.”

The entire locker room was silent.

“And maybe it IS love actually. What exactly are you assbutts gonna do about it?”

Dean walked out of the locker room, slammed the door and hauled ass home, pushing the Impala as fast as she'd go.

“Sammy!” Dean hollered, walking through their front door, determined to do something about Cas and right damn now. He wasn’t spending another day feeling like the Grinch.

After a late night of research on Russian Christmas, and Russian language, and Russian recipes, Dean had a plan. Ok, sure, it took him a while to figure out what wheat berries were and a little longer to buy poppy seeds and apricots. But buying the honey was easy and the cooking wasn't too hard. And imagining Cas's face when he ate some Russian Christmas food made it all worth it. Even when his mom yelled at him for ruining two of her best pans. A weekend spent cooking and making a mixed tape, and Dean was ready for action.

When Monday morning came, Dean knew just what to do. He walked as quickly as he could to first period, aiming to get their before Adler showed up. When he saw Cas sitting all alone at the head of the class, he said a prayer, and walked up to Cas with his hand held out.

Cas glanced at the cassette tape in his palm, but looked back down again.

"Cas," he said. But Cas didn't look up.

“Its a gift, Cas. You take those.”


	4. Chapter 4

“This is for me?” Cas asked quietly, looking around the room, expecting villains to pop out. He didn't want to wish anymore, but seeing Dean always made his heart beat fast with hope.

“Anyway,” Dean mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I'm probably getting some of the details wrong, but I read that people in Russia give gifts for Christmas in January.”

Cas nodded, unsure how Dean would known this. Or why he'd care.

“I notice you have one of those old school walkman thingies. So I made you this mixed tape.” Dean mumbled Merry Christmas in Russian, and Castiel couldn't help but smile. The words made him warm, even if they were said with a confusing accent.

Cas said the words back to Dean with a blushing smile. And Dean's returning smile made Castiel even warmer. He tried to tell himself he was being foolish, but Dean's smile grew and he set the tape on the edge of Cas’s desk.

“Wanna listen to it?” Dean asked excitedly.

Cas nodded in agreement and reached for his speaker attachment. This way, he and Dean could both listen. As he set up, Dean puttered behind him. “Cas, not now. Look, class is about to start and Zach's an assbutt. Wanna have lunch together?”

Cas was nervous, but saying no to Dean didn't seem to be something he was built for, so he nodded yes.

Dean blushed and said, “Awesome!”

Hours of nervous twitching later, Cas watched as Dean happily waved people away from his lunch table. “Make room. Make room. Me and Cas are having a party, and you're not invited. Back up.”

Cas stood behind as Dean pulled out bowls and utensils from a duffel bag. At one point he grabbed a large covered dish.

“Good, it’s still warm,” he said.

“What did you make? Pie?”

“So you know I like pie?”

Cas nodded and blushed and hoped Dean wouldn't mind.

“That's great. I've noticed a lot of things about you, too.”

“Is that what you made? Pie?”

“Nope, I made Kutia. Now, have a seat and hook up those speakers so we can get this party started.”

Although Castiel was shocked to hear the name of a Russian holiday treat on the lips of the all-American Dean Winchester, he hurried to follow Dean’s directions. He was seated next to Dean, the speakers were connected to his Walkman, and he waited.

Dean finally finished pulling items out of his bag and uncovered the kutia. “Press play, Cas,” Dean said, holding a spoon over the dish.

After Dean had served out portions and set a spoon next to Cas's bowl, he still waited. He'd never felt so unsure in his life. Except maybe when he landed in the airport to meet his new family. But then he'd known how to act, what to say. Here, he had no script.

"Go on, Cas. Eat up."

Cas grabbed a spoon and took a bite. When he tasted the sweet treat, he tried not to cry around a mouthful of kutia. He didn't know how to tell Dean that kutia was not a Christmas tradition he had ever experienced. An orphan, Cas had only ever gone to Mass and then returned back to his dormitory. He had never exchanged gifts or well wishes or parties, and he had never had kutia to celebrate. He swallowed around a thick lump of emotion and spooned another heaping bite of the stuff.

“Whoa. Slow down, Cas. There’s plenty more if you want it. Actually, it wasn’t tough to make. If you like it, you know, I could make it for you gain. Tomorrow. Or whenever.”

Cas nodded. That seemed to be all he could do around Dean these days. He ate slowly and listened to the music Dean made for him. The lunchroom disappeared behind them. As song after song went by, Castiel grew more and more surprised. Each song was one he loved. His eyes grew wide and his heart beat fast, but he stayed silent. He didn't dare hope that this meant Dean liked him, too. He'd made that mistake before.

“You wear band shirts, you know. I noticed. When you liked a band I did, it was more evidence you were awesome,” Dean said with a wink. “And sometimes, you wore a shirt with a name I didn't recognize. I googled it. Listened to some stuff. You've got good taste, Cas.”

Castiel nodded again. Took another bite, but remained silent, still unsure what to say.

“Cas. Cas, look at me, man.”

Cas looked into Dean's green eyes, and, this close up, he thought he'd drown there. “Cas, I'm sorry about Christmas Eve. I was a jerk. A scared assbutt, and I'm sorry.”

“No, Dean. I'm sorry.” Castiel out down his spoon and looked at Dean's cheeks instead of his eyes. He couldn’t say this while looking at Dean's eyes. Instead he'd stare at his freckles. “I should not have assumed so much about you. I am new to America, and my foster mother tells me I misunderstand much of your culture. I am very sorry to have mauled you in your home and in front of your friends. You are kind to forgive me and treat me to a meal like this."

"Dude, that sounds like a sermon you memorized. I didn't mind the kiss. To be honest, I liked it. A lot"

"All the same, a jerk would not do such an act as this. I was wrong to call you an assbutt. You are splendid, Dean. I don't understand much of American culture, but I feel that I understand you better now. Thank you.”

“Since you're not so great at understanding American culture, I'll help you out, Cas. How's that?” Dean asked.

When he nodded yes, Dean crossed the inches that separated them and pushed in close to Cas. Cas’s head fell and his eyes remained lowered, unable to process what was happening. Their bodies touched from hip to toe, and Dean pressed his leg along Cas’s and then leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“In America, a mixed tape is a romantic gift. You give a mixed tape to the person you like. The person you want to kiss, to hold hands with, to love.”

Dean's hand moved down Cas’s forearm, downs this hand and around his palm. He linked their fingers together.

“Cas, look at me.”

Their eyes met again, and Dean's were wet. His smile was there, but wobbled, nervous.

“I'm sorry I messed up when you kissed me, Cas. But I hope it's the first of many. I hope I get more chances to get it right. I hope I get a lot more chances to do right by you, Cas.” Dean squeezed Cas’s hand, and gave Cas a soft kiss on the cheek. “Whaddya say Cas. Is it love actually?”

Cas nodded again and Dean laughed. “You can say something, Cas. Not gonna bite ya. Not unless you ask me to,” he said with another wink.

“Yes, Dean. I think it is actually love. But I'd be more sure if we kissed.”

Dean laughed again, loudly, throwing his head back. His grin spread and his eyes sparkled and he seemed joyful.

He grabbed Cas’s face, putting his large palms around Cas’s cheeks and rubbing his stubble with his thumbs. “You really are beautiful. I've been wanting to do this for almost a year and half.”

“I've only been here a year and a half, Dean,” Castiel said, correcting his hyperbole.

“I know, Cas. A year, 5 months, and 18 days. It's been torture, buddy.”

“Torture for me, too, Dean,” Castiel whispered.

They kissed and the lunchroom erupted. Classmates yelled and clapped and jeered. One kid launched his lunch into the air. Sam clapped. A Teacher yelled “Winchester! Stop that now!” But neither of them heard. They were lost in each other, in a kiss that was long overdue, in a true and actual love.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! I’m writing this from in front of roaring fire and staring out at a winter wonderland...I’m also without power and typing on my phone. Snow storms and southern states don’t mix. Haha! I hope you enjoyed this story. I’ll be posting a happy ending to the Victorian series next Thursday. Love you! And thanks for any and all Kudos and comments. They make me feel warmer than this fire, you know!


End file.
